


Taking

by Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs



Series: Sweet Dreams [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Drugs, Drunk Sex, Having sex with another while sleeping, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Somnophilia, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Taking Advantage of Sleeping Partner, sorta?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 08:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10590000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs/pseuds/Leonard_Snart_Robber_of_ATMs
Summary: Onslaught's always desired the little praxian Swindle keeps at his arm. One night, while Swindle's away on a business trip, Onslaught finally gets his chance.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Had a rough night last night, so why not write some porn? 
> 
> I got so many requests and so much school work I'm certain I'm gonna die. *dies*

Onslaught had planned so long for this. He'd dare to say he'd fantasized about this moment from the cycle Swindle had brought the little Praxian into their little group of convicts. 

 

The door creaked slightly as the truck opened it with painstaking slowness, unvisored optics drinking in the sight of the smaller mech, laid out over the berth with the cutest expression on his faceplates.

 

Carefully stepping inside, Onslaught checked the hall once more to make sure none of the other Combaticons were up for some reason, but all was quiet. He needn't worry about Swindle, since the con-mech was out of town and left his little lover behind, thus giving Onslaught the chance to fulfill his desires and sate his lust for a little while longer.

 

The door clicked shut, Onslaught relaxing and turning to look at the praxian.

 

Moonlight from the window glistened over the white frame, the occasional flick of a doorwing catching the pure light. Lips were parted in the most tantalizing way, all but begging to be kissed.  _ Perfect _ .

 

Smokescreen was a talented gambler, if too naive for the harder con life. So young and beautiful, it made Onslaught wish he could keep the little mech chained to his berth forever. But for now, this would hopefully hold his desires back until he was able to find a way to claim the mech from Swindle. Credits could buy anything when it came to the jeep.

 

A small whimper drew Onslaught from his thoughts, the blue truck smirking at the way the smaller mech squirmed, drawing his knees beneath his abdomen so that perfect aft lifted a little higher. They had had a 'celebration' that night, and he'd made sure Smokescreen drank enough, slipping a few special additions into the praxian's drink.

 

Onslaught smirked with amusement as he drew closer to the side of the berth, reaching out to draw a single digit along the edge of the doorwing closest to him.

 

A groan came from between parted lips, the praxian gasping softly as his digits dug into his pillow and clutched it even tighter than he had been earlier, doorwing pressing up into the touch.

 

Chuckling softly, Onslaught pulled his servo away to grasp the very edge of the blanket gently slide it back until it fell away, exposing Smokescreen's lower back and aft to the Combaticon.

 

"So perfect." Onslaught rumbled in pleasure, caressing the recharging mech's aft and giving a light squeeze, enjoying the moan it ellicited. 

 

Onslaught carefully sat on the edge of the berth, tracing a digit around the praxian's panel seams, stroking and pressing. Every sound Smokescreen gave encouraged the blue mech, who searched for the manuel latch.

 

Smokescreen squirmed and let out the cutest sounds as the truck found the latch, allowing the gambler's panel to slide aside and expose his valve, lubricant glistening along the outer lips. "Mmph." The praxian moaned into his pillow, dreaming of his lover.

 

Hesitating at the sound, Onslaught's optics flickered up to study the lax faceplates, making sure Smokescreen was still asleep. The younger mech sighed and relaxed again, though there was a slight flush in his cheekplating.

 

"Like that?" Onslaught whispered, more to himself than anyone, pressing a thumb against the gently flickering anterior node and pressing consistently as Smokescreen bucked his hips.

 

Servos slid over smooth plating, giving a gentle squeeze before Onslaught thrust both thumbs between the plush valve lips, relishing the small cry that accompanied the movement. "Shhh." He crooned, massaging the inner lining before he parted the walls, pressing his faceplate against the sleeping mech's valve.

 

The tangy scent of lubricant hit his senses as Onslaught's glossa lapped up the dribbling lubricant, storing the memory files away for later. It was divine, the taste, smell. The truck moved one servo to massage the swollen anterior node.

 

Smokescreen whimpered, eagerly pressing back into the glossa mercilessly working his valve, the truck's nose all but pressed against the praxian's aft.

 

Exquisite. The way those doorwings fluttered with every lick and suckle, the whimpers and squirming... How Onslaught wished he could frag the smaller mech properly, but that would have to wait. He didn't want Smokescreen to wake.

 

"Mm. Nooo..." 

 

Onslaught swore those were the most arousing words to ever grace his audios, the blue mech growling as he wrapped one arm around the praxian's waist to keep his aft upraised, the other helping to keep his balance. 

 

Moving a little lower, Onslaught closed his lips around the praxian's node, nibbling and sucking at it like it was the sweetest candy.

 

Smokescreen gasped, aft wriggling as Onslaught kept a hold of the smaller mech's node, rasping his glossa against it. The praxian cried out, hips thrusting against the truck's faceplates, half formed pleas pouring from between his lips.

 

Pulling away, Onslaught thrust two digits up the praxian's clenching valve and twisted. Doorwings flared wide and Smokescreen's back bowed, whimpering and sobbing as he overloaded, Onslaught keeping up the stimulation.

 

Lubricants ran down those perfect white thighs that trembled in overload, puddling around the praxian's knees as Onslaught got back to his pedes and slowly licked the lubricants from his digits. "Sweet dreams." The truck purred out, pecking a kiss to the happily flickering node, ghosting from the room lest Smokescreen awaken.

 

The door shut as blue optics flickered online, Smokscreen trembling as he looked around deliriously, optics falling on the door. He was certain he had seen it close... He looked down between his legs and groaned.

 

Next time, he would insist Swindle allow him to go. That way he'd be able to have a spike up his valve and another overload.

 

Flopping down on his abdomen, Smokescreen whined.

 

Outside the door, Onslaught shuddered. Oh yes... He'd make that mech his own one day...


End file.
